Unknown acts of courage
by silentlyatnight
Summary: All the teachers of the Evergreen Kindergarten are found dead. Two children are missing and the others are dead or can't remember. This is the story they can't ever tell. ::: Because the nameless Muggles who suffered and died in the Second Wizarding War deserve to be remembered, too.


**QLFC s7r6—Wanderers Beater 1: _War. _Write a fic set during a wizarding war (either one we know about or one of your own creation).**  
**-(word) monster**  
**-(word count) 1616**

**A/N this is set during the second wizarding war. Also, to avoid confusion: Elliot and his mother are Muggles. She can't truly do magic.**

* * *

A raindrop hit Elliot's head, making him look up from the pebble he'd been kicking all the way from home to here. The kindergarten looked gloomy today, and he didn't want to let go of his mum's hand.

"Muuummy, please," he said, tugging at her. "Can't you bring me back? I feel ill. And cold," he added before realising it was true.

"What about the school play?" She crouched down. "You know Miss Altham wants to start rehearsing today."

Mum shoved a lock of hair away from his forehead. Elliot had been about to tell her he felt like he had a fever, but he remembered just in time her fingertips were more accurate than any thermometer, so he said, "My tummy hurts."

She smiled and brought her hand down to draw little circles on his stomach. It always worked when he was actually sick—his mum's hands were magical. Even now, the massage helped him feel calmer, but—

"_Pleasepleaseplease_, I want to stay with you. You know how to scare monsters away from the closet, and you know all those magic formulas to keep them away. Miss Altham doesn't."

Mum hugged him tightly. "Honey, you're going to school next year. You're a big boy," she said, tucking his head under hers. "I'll tell you what—when you come back from kindergarten, I'll teach you some formulas so you can protect yourself."

Elliot beamed because Mum never, ever, told her secrets, and she had said he was a big boy. He slowly disentangled himself from her hug and let his hand slip free from hers. "Okay."

She kissed him and handed him his backpack right as he spotted his friends. He wondered what they could do after rehearsal—Play-Doh? Blocks? Drawings?

His, "Bye, Mum," and her, "See you later," were simultaneous, and they laughed.

...

The men popped up out of thin air with a loud _crack_—in the way that only happened in the comics and on TV, in superhero movies. But those dark figures looked nothing like Superman. They wore long, black cloaks, their hoods pulled up.

Elliot shivered. He had been right—the monsters had come to the kindergarten, and he didn't know how to protect himself yet. They'd grab his feet and drag him away from Mum. Would her magic be enough to bring him back?

There were all sort of noises around him as the other children cried and ran, stumbling on chairs and desks. Elliot felt his own eyes filling with tears, but he was rooted to the spot, his heart pounding.

Miss Altham came forward, demanding that the dark men leave. Some of them did, but the last one pulled out a stick—it looked like Merlin's wand—and aimed it at her, barking words Elliot didn't understand—things like "Muggles," and "filth." With one more muttered word, light erupted from the stick, and Miss Altham fell on the floor, screaming and pleading, convulsing.

The man's evil laughter made Elliot jump back. After a green flash, Miss Altham stopped crying, stopped moving. She didn't get up, but that didn't mean she was hurt, right? She looked like she was sleeping—Elliot could only hope.

Then, the monster looked at them and said, "So, Muggle whelps, which one of you can do magic?"

Elliot thought of his mother, but he didn't know magic, wasn't able to protect himself, so he stayed silent like everyone else, frozen under the man's stare.

"We know someone made something float here—a pencil, a chair, maybe a puppet? None of you has magical parents, so there's a Mudblood among you. Who it is? Your teachers are all _unable_ to help, and my co-workers are having this same speech with your little friends in the other rooms. So I suggest you start talking, or you'll never go home." The man sat on Miss Altham's desk and stared at them intently.

Elliot looked at his mates, too. None of them seemed to understand what they should do. Nobody talked, nobody moved. Only sobs and hiccups could be heard. Elliot sniffed.

"Okay. Once more," the man said. "Did any of you ever make odd things happen? Changed your mum's hair colour when she was being mean, or summoned some toys? Anything would do. Come on, my patience isn't endless." He played with his stick as he waited.

Elliot never noticed, never saw anything odd. He was curious to know which one of his mates knew magic like Mum—perhaps even stronger magic than Mum's. But then, maybe it was a bad thing, maybe the dark man was here to punish the children who did magic, maybe that was why they kept it secret; they feared being taken away by the bad man. Elliot would be afraid, too—he was.

"I-I… err… I mean, m-maybe… I c-coloured my s-sister's hair green… once."

"Oh, good. Very good," the man said. "Come closer. What's your name, little one? Your sister's?"

"I-I'm Josh, and her name is B-Beth." Josh took a little step forward. "But then Mum washed her hair, and it was r-red again."

The monster stood up, angry, and said, "No, not the kind of things that you worthless Muggles do. I mean things you can't explain." He grabbed Josh before he could run. "I'm not angry yet. Everybody makes mistakes. But if the one who did magic in this school doesn't come forward, little Josh here will end up like your teacher."

Elliot looked at Miss Altham, still lying on the floor, unmoving. Her chest didn't go up and down like Mum's when she fell asleep on the couch. Miss Altham looked more like those dead people he had seen in a movie. He couldn't bring himself to look towards his mates now, too terrified of what was going to happen to him, to Josh, to everybody. Josh was not his _friendfriend_ like Archie and Kai, but Elliot didn't want to see him hurt. Maybe he could say he made his crayon float—it would be a white lie, so Mum couldn't get angry. But what if the monster took him away? Could he be that brave?

"It was me." Archie's voice startled Elliot.

"It was too early for a snack, but I was hungry, so hungry that my tummy was growling. Suddenly, a cookie flew to my hand. Miss Altham always brings cookies for us…"

"Go on," the man said.

"Mum told me not to tell anyone. At first, she didn't believe me, but when I made a toy car appear out of nowhere, she told me it had to be kept secret. No one could ever know, not even my best friends."

Elliot looked at him, gaping, as his friend—_his friend!_—stepped forward. The man let Josh go and crouched down in front of Archie, a hand on his shoulder.

Elliot couldn't believe it. Archie was his friend, yet he never told him or Kai—whose eyes were just as wide as Elliot's—he could do so many cool things! And now Archie, short and scrawny, was facing the monster. He was so brave. Sure, he was trembling, but Elliot was about to piss himself.

"Ha, now we are talking. What's your name?"

"Archie… Payton."

"Okay, Archie. Can you tell me your parents' names? Where do you live? Do you have siblings?"

Archie looked more scared now. He flinched and wriggled, but the man drew him closer to himself and aimed the wand at him.

"My mother's name is Kate, my father's Riley, but he doesn't know anything. My little s-sister, Gail, is here, too, in another room…"

"Very good. Can Gail do odd things, too?"

Archie shivered, and his, "No," was but a whisper.

"Don't lie to me, kid. Or I'll have your Gail brought here and thrown from that window. We'll see if she'll be able to save herself. It usually works, even with you Mudbloods."

"NO!" Archie shouted. "She… she only moves her dolls, b-but she's n-not—she can't control it like I do."

"Oh, so it was her, not you, who made the cookie float, wasn't it, Archie? You were playing the hero."

Archie's face was all red. "Please, don't hurt her. Don't take her away. Take me. Take me."

The man's evil laughter resounded again. "No, no, I won't hurt either of you, little one. I'll bring you both to the Ministry for examination. You'll learn what happens to those who dare steal magic."

Archie struggled, screamed that he couldn't leave without warning his mum first, tried to kick the man in the shin. He didn't stop even when the monster struck him.

Elliot felt bad. He couldn't let this man take Archie and Gail—annoying as she was, he cared about her, too—away from their mum and dad. Away from him. He wanted to be able to play with his best friend again. He had to figure out something _quickly_, had to remember at least one magic formula of Mum's. She said he was a big boy, able to protect himself. But Mum didn't just protect herself; she kept him safe, too. Elliot wanted to do the same.

Before he could think of anything, other monsters entered the room, dragging along more crying children. The room was too small for everybody, but no one cared.

Elliot, who managed to stay ahead, heard the men laugh when Archie wriggled free and ran to hug a cry-wrecked Gail. He got angry. What did monsters know about love?

"Let's bring these brats to the Ministry," one said.

"NO!" Elliot launched forward to stop him.

"Oh, look at this tiny Muggle Gryffindor." The feminine voice—so unlike Mum's—sent shivers down his back. "We'd better eradicate this filth."

When the green light hit his chest, it didn't hurt—Elliot just felt weird, then cold, then…


End file.
